Page 27 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

Chapter Five

Zar followed Anna andthe conductor into the next car, which was empty, then the next one, stopping next to a pair of seats occupied by a woman and a boy, perhaps ten years old. The boy cradled his left arm close to his body, his face pale and wet with tears. The woman hovered over him, her worried eyes darting from the conductor to Anna and back again.

The conductor spoke to the woman in French, gesturing toward Anna.

At her name, she crouched next to the boy and said, “Hello, my name is Dr. Anna. What happened to your arm?”

“My son, Luke, was running down the aisle,” his mother explained in excellent English. “He tripped and fell. Now his arm hurts and he says he can’t move his hand.”

“Can I see it?” Anna asked, holding out her hands.

Luke nodded slowly, then carefully held out his arm. Anna peeled back his shirt sleeve and looked at the limb from several angles.

She pointed at a bump only a few centimeters from his wrist. “Can you lift your hand?” she asked.

Pain flickered across the boy’s face, causing fresh tears to fill his eyes, and he shook his head.

“Hmm,” Anna said. “I think you may have cracked your arm right here.”

“Broken?” his mother asked.

“I suspect a greenstick fracture. A break in the bone only on one side, one that doesn’t go all the way through. It’s very common in children, since their bones are still a little flexible. He’ll probably need a cast for a few weeks, but that’s all.

“Fractures of this nature pose little danger and heal quickly. Until we get to a hospital, where he can get an x-ray and a cast, I’ll wrap it up and put it in a sling for him. I’ve asked the conductor to bring a first-aid kit. Luke should be reasonably comfortable.”

The boy’s mother let out a deep breath. “Thank you.”

The conductor arrived with the first-aid kit. Zar thanked the man and took it from him. He opened it and watched as Anna splinted Luke’s arm. Then she took a tensor bandage and began wrapping it. When the child looked close to tears again, Zar put a hand under his elbow and held the boy’s arm in the correct position as she finished wrapping the limb. Once done, she created a sling with a large triangular bandage and tied it behind the boy’s head.

Luke’s color looked better and his face less pinched.

“He should be fine until you can get him to a hospital,” she said to his mother. “I suggest some ibuprofen for the pain, but he’ll have to be careful not to jostle his arm. Give this note to the medical staff at the hospital, so they know what I’ve done.” She wrote it all down on a pad of paper from the first-aid kit. “Any questions?”

“No, thank you so much.” Luke’s mother glanced at Zar, lifted her hand toward him as if to shake his, and froze.

It saddened him when people did this. The shock and awe of meeting a royal. As if he were somehow set above other people. But he’d long ago learned to hide his reaction and smiled instead. He took the woman’s hand and patted it. “Your son is a brave young man.”

She nodded with two hard jerks of her head, her eyes wide and face as pale as her son’s was a few minutes ago. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Her voice high and tight.

He patted the boy’s head and stepped back a couple of paces to give Anna room to work. She repacked the kit, closed the lid, then handed it to the conductor. The noise level around them grew louder as people took pictures with their phones and whispered. A few of the women looked him over like he was naked and covered in honey, and they were starved grizzly bears.

When he’d been young and stupid, he’d liked the attention; now, he found it irritating.

“You should go back to that private car of yours,” Anna said in an undertone to him. “Before you get eaten alive.”

He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear. “It’s safer to travel in numbers.”

She glanced at him and bit her lip to keep a smile under control. “It must be hard to be you with all this attention and adoration.”

Zar put a hand on the small of her back and guided her back the way they’d come. There was movement to the sides and behind him as people tried to follow, but Jean Paul and the conductor held them back. “You have no idea. I’ve had ladies’ underwear mailed to me.”

“Ew,” she said on a half laugh, half groan.

They entered the empty car right behind theirs.

“Is it like that all the time?” she asked him. “To be the center of attention of so many strangers must be disconcerting and distinctly uncomfortable.”

“Not always,” he said slowly. “But often. It’s why I try not to bring attention to myself.”

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